Funny thing – I’ve owned this domain and have been blogging on it for ten years now. It started as a place to put my first-ever long piece. A novel, really. I put it down here as a serial, using a now-defunct blogging engine, and through it I gained a little bit of an audience, met some folks, and really felt like a creative writer.

I used the momentum from that to apply for grad school, where I met my lovely wife and wrote my second novel.

This year, I started my third real one, a sequel to the second, and spent most of my writing energy working on that. This site lay pretty fallow.

What I’m really not sure of is whether or not I really enjoy blogging; I have opinions about things, but I’m not particularly interested in opining about a specific subject like politics or environmentalism or the weather, and that’s what blogs seem to have become: worldwide hyper-focused hybrids of opinion and journalism. They used to be a good way to gather news, but for that there’s Twitter and the old-school newsletters (I read NextDraft, and it’s become my primary source for news. That and the New Yorker).

But I’m not going to give up this site. If I do get an audience for other things, I’ll probably have to have some sort of Web presence, and here is as good as any.

]]>http://oilies.com/?feed=rss2&p=17520Sludgehttp://oilies.com/?p=1747
http://oilies.com/?p=1747#commentsWed, 26 Nov 2014 16:28:06 +0000http://oilies.com/?p=1747Sludging through the editing this morning, and I’ve managed to spend a total of an hour and a half

Staring at ridiculous internet stuff

Editing two lines of writing

Realizing that I had no idea what the username and password was for this blog, going to find them, then realizing I had no idea what the login page was (I hid it due to annoying hackers), going in via file manager, deleting my hide-login plugin, resetting my password, and finally getting in

Realizing that I should be documenting my editing process here because then at least I’m typing

So that’s what I’ve done. Longest this website has ever gone without an update, but I’m still alive and kicking, trying to keep the writing life going whilst working away in the middle of the biggest tech boom this city has seen in a while. I’ll try to be better here. Honest.

]]>http://oilies.com/?feed=rss2&p=17471Writing is elsewherehttp://oilies.com/?p=1739
http://oilies.com/?p=1739#commentsTue, 25 Mar 2014 17:07:38 +0000http://oilies.com/?p=1739I’ve changed my writing schedule over the past few weeks. For a while, I was getting home from The Day Job I Like, putting up my bike, cooling off for a second or two, then hurriedly writing as much as I could for an hour. In that scenario, I was usually done by seven or so.

Two weeks ago, I decided to start writing in the morning. I usually wake up at around seven anyway, and would spend the morning kind of screwing around before getting on my bike and getting to work by nine. Instead, now, I wake up at 6:45, warm up for about twenty minutes (basically walk around my apartment and de-groggify), and then get to it. I’m done by eight or eight-fifteen, then I eat a quick breakfast, shower, and get to work just a little later than I used to.

I love it. I was trying to figure out why, and I realized: having homework is awful. And I was giving myself what felt like homework at the end of the day, when I just want to talk to my wife, hang out with friends, read a book, and cook. Go me.

44,000 words in. Going for a finish of around 65,000. At my current rate, that’s around three weeks. I’m excited.

]]>http://oilies.com/?feed=rss2&p=17390So, there is more writinghttp://oilies.com/?p=1736
http://oilies.com/?p=1736#commentsFri, 28 Feb 2014 06:42:02 +0000http://oilies.com/?p=1736I went running about a month ago, down through Golden Gate Park to the beach, then back up the long hill, through the sandy dunes and weirdly-green trees and bushes, and I came up with an idea for a story.

The story is called “A Murder on the Facebook Bus”, and it’s kinda topical. I’m about 30,000 words into it right now – about to where The Big Twist happens. It’s been quite a while since I’ve been as stoked about a fiction story as I am about this one; years, in fact.

Anyway, I thought I’d put that on this site to just give an update. Writing about writing after writing = not the best style and/or form. So…that’s where Writer Dan is right now.

]]>http://oilies.com/?feed=rss2&p=17360Maxing outhttp://oilies.com/?p=1733
http://oilies.com/?p=1733#commentsFri, 21 Feb 2014 06:10:48 +0000http://oilies.com/?p=1733I’ve often thought that I don’t really have a theoretical maximum, in the sense that if I just stayed awake long enough, I’d be able to do practically infinite number of things. These past couple of weeks…well, I think I’ve proven that I’m not quite that tough.

I got the idea for a new story about two weeks ago; it’s called A Murder on the Facebook Bus, and I’m writing the crap out of it. Nearly 20,000 words in two weeks, and that’s including four days off. That’s on top of doing my full-time job, getting as much exercise as I can, and (for the past three days) handling the emotional aftermath of a death in the family and some other dramas. Oh, and helping out my lovely wife on some freelance writing assignments.

That’s about all I can handle. But the next week is looking just as…fun? I want to

]]>http://oilies.com/?feed=rss2&p=17330Ten years in!http://oilies.com/?p=1729
http://oilies.com/?p=1729#commentsTue, 04 Feb 2014 18:08:18 +0000http://oilies.com/?p=1729Ten years ago I packed up all of my stuff – what I had fit in my dad’s car – and moved into a weird two-bedrooom-made-three in the Lower Haight in San Francisco. Jeff Dunn﻿ and Ryan Palmer﻿ helped out by bringing up some donated furniture. The room already had a bed. Ten years, five main jobs, innumerable freelance gigs, two marathons, one novel written (many started), one masters degree, five continents, twenty Ultimate leagues, a few goodbyes, and so, so many hellos to the amazing people I’ve met.

Oh yeah. And one marriage. Meeting Julie was the highlight. Thanks a bunch, San Francisco – bring on the next decade!

This guy is writing a novel based on his time at the TSA. Not a bad idea.

I saw the guy who wrote Stringer talking to Jon Stewart the other night. Another one for the to-read.

But, you ask…what are you up to? Well, I’m writing a Big Long Thing, and doing that for 500-1000 words per day is kind of burning my creative rockets out. What’s tougher is that it’s technically a rewrite – I had thought I was done with it after the first draft.

Note to self: First drafts are evil. So I’d taken six months off of it, and now I’m back to it and making it a whole lot better and a whole lot longer.

And that, my friends, is what I’m up to. Also, check out Do Stuff Well. I’m still semi-regularly posting over there.

]]>http://oilies.com/?feed=rss2&p=17260Tasmania – Bruny Islandhttp://oilies.com/?p=1723
http://oilies.com/?p=1723#commentsFri, 10 Jan 2014 21:55:07 +0000http://oilies.com/?p=1723keep reading]]>“So let me get this straight,” said Julie. “You’ve taken me to Australia, which is an island. Then to Tasmania, which is a smaller island. And now we’re going to South Bruny Island off of Tasmania?”

“Yep,” I said.

We woke as early as we could inside Pocketspace, and drove through Hobart’s version of traffic (taking a wrong turn and getting slightly lost on the way) to the ferry dock at Kettering, getting there about five minutes before the 9:30 am scheduled departure.

Yes, I thought. Made it!

“You didn’t make this one,” said the cheerful woman at the toll gate. “But we’re running some extras, so you’ll get the ten-fifteen.”

Not too bad. We drove our little rental car up past a large line of vacationer automobiles, parked, and waited. It was a beautiful day, and there was a gift shop/cafe. After a half hour of pastries and coffee, I saw movement on the water.

I don’t know if you know this about me, but I think that car ferries are amazing. This was no less so. It was basically a huge square two-story boat with a ramp that let you drive up or down. We were on the down side, and after getting everyone on, we crossed the straight to Bruny, about a twenty-minute voyage.

Our plan was to go for a quick nature walk and then find something to eat. Bruny is a legendary (for Tasmania) vacation destination, dotted with little restaurants and B&Bs. There’s basically one long road that goes from North Bruny over the spit to South Bruny; you drive on gentle hills past farms and thousands of sheep. We cruised along Adventure Bay, taking a quick break to see a monument to the immortal Captain James Cook:

And from just beyond there in Adventure Bay we started our walk to Fluted Cape. It was supposed to be an easy hour and a half or so, and it certainly started out that way, on a deserted beach with lapping cold-water waves:

As we walked along the trail turned muddy, and we took a right where a sign told us to go, and things got ugly. The mud didn’t go away, a fly took a liking to Julie’s head and followed her, buzzing madly, for nearly forty-five minutes, it was hot, the trail itself just switched back and forth up through an uninspiring eucalyptus forest. We were both grumpy.

Here’s the thing: that’s never a good idea. Turning back over bits of ground that we’d already covered – and kind of hated – was not going to make things better. So…even after ten more minutes, we kept going. I could see the horizon through the trees, which mean, (I hoped) that we were getting to the top of something or other.

I was so consumed by my thoughts that I almost ran into Julie, who had stopped short.

“What…is that?” she said.

It was an animal, about the size of a beaver, but with a long snout and spines all over. It looked at us and immediately pretended to be a rock.

“It’s a wombat…a hedgehog…an anteater…”

“You have no idea what that is, do you?”

True. We stood still for a couple of minutes, hoping for it to come out of hiding so that we could see its face again. Eventually, it looked up, saw us, and dove into the rocks again. We moved on, wondering what the hell it was.

We were in slightly better moods at this point – seeing Actual Weird Tasmanian Wildlife definitely had something to do with that. And then ahead we could see blue sky, the humidity broke, and we walked out onto a cliff a thousand feet over the sea, with views of Port Arthur to the east, and nothing but Antartica in front of us:

“Well, OK,” said Julie. “I think this is worth it.”

It’s hard to describe the indescribably beautiful. But that cliff, on that day, with that view – things don’t get much more perfect than that. The trail made its way down the cliffside from there, with stunning overlooks every few minutes, looking down to Penguin Island (yes, another island off the coast of Bruny) and water so blue it hurts to think about it.

We ran into an Australian hiking couple and described our mystery animal.

“An Echidna,” said the husband. “Did you get to see his cute little nose? The use it to eat ants.”

Mystery solved.

We hit the bottom at a rocky beach, with small waves and not a person in sight.

And then, back at Adventure Bay…ducklings!

The hike had taken nearly three hours, and we were both worn out and exhilarated. It was a short drive from the trailhead to South Bruny Island Premium Wines, where we feasted on burgers (mine was made with wallaby and lamb)

And then we decided that it would be good for me to pretend to be a penguin

And then…we went home, driving back north to the Ferry and then to Hobart. Bruny Island was a wonder; I hope to someday see that bluest of blue seas again.

]]>http://oilies.com/?feed=rss2&p=17230Tasmania – Mt Field National Parkhttp://oilies.com/?p=1719
http://oilies.com/?p=1719#commentsWed, 01 Jan 2014 20:33:51 +0000http://oilies.com/?p=1719keep reading]]>You go to Tasmania to get with nature. There are other things to keep you occupied – MONA and the Salamanca Markets come to mind – and if the weather is terrible you can just hole up in any of a number of cozy pubs with a beer and some local cheese. But…you’re here to see the odd, strange, beautiful things that make Tasmania what it is.

On our third day in Tassie, the clouds lifted and gave us an azure blue sky, so we ate a quick breakfast and headed north to Mt. Field National Park. It’s maybe an hour and a half from Hobart, but took us a little longer due to the inevitable “wrong side of the road, oh crap we took a wrong turn…what the hell are we doing in a residential neighborhood?” confusion.

Hobart becomes countryside pretty quickly, though; and we reached the visitor’s center at around ten-thirty, bought our parking pass, and went out to see some waterfalls. The forest itself is dark and damp, but you quickly get to Russell Falls, which is almost comical in its picturesque beauty.

From Russell Falls you get to Horseshoe Falls.

And then the trail wanders through the groves of giant eucalyptus trees. “Giant” in this case means “California Redwood-size enormous.” It’s hard to describe how much bigger these guys are than the invasive firetraps that we have here in the States. This is me, looking up. The top is so, so far away.

We also saw our first wildlife. Well…we had some help. We were traipsing along the trail, chattering about something or other, and noticed a couple of other hikers staring intently at something off to the right. We shut ourselves up immediately, and followed their gaze to see…

A wallaby! Our first live marsupial! It sat and looked at us for a bit, then loped off into the trees. We continued our walk. I should note here that the people who do trail maintenance at Mt. Field are incredible. Most of our path looked like this

Walking through a dark, primeval forest is much easier when you don’t have to look out and try not to trip over rocks and roots every few steps! Near the end of the hike we saw our last and smallest waterfall – Lady Barron:

After a lunch break (salami, cheese, apples. Yum!) we took a dirt road to Lake Dobson, much higher up in the mountains. So high up that there was still snow in late spring.

That snow overlooks a perfect Alpine lake:

And since I am a crazy person, I went for a swim:

I almost went in in the altogether; I didn’t have any clothes other than what I had on, and there didn’t seem to be anyone else around. But…modesty won out; I swam in my underwear. This turned out to be a very good decision, as right as I submerged completely, a couple of cars pulled into the parking lot and a large family came out, complete with children. Female children. The water was pretty cold, and I didn’t really want to stay in any longer than I had to, so…somewhat clothed was a good place to be.

There’s nothing quite like swimming in a mountain lake, though. Clean, awake, happy, with tired legs, we headed back down to Hobart in the afternoon.

]]>http://oilies.com/?feed=rss2&p=17192Landing in Hobart on a cold dayhttp://oilies.com/?p=1717
http://oilies.com/?p=1717#commentsMon, 30 Dec 2013 04:13:20 +0000http://oilies.com/?p=1717keep reading]]>We flew to Hobart on a Saturday morning. Most of the people whom I knew in Sydney, upon hearing that we were headed to Tasmania, said something along the lines of “Tassie? Why the (expletive) would you go there?” My answer was always a bit incomplete – I didn’t really know why I wanted to go to Tasmania, other than that it was the wildest state in Australia, with the weirdest animals, and one of the only spots with Actual Mountains. But I hadn’t been there, so it was tough to really explain.

First Tasmania tip – when you land, go directly to the rental car counter, and get your luggage after. Everyone else on your flight will be renting a car, so if you wait, you are going to wait some more. A bit of a walk, a bit of adjustment to left-side driving, and twenty minutes on the road later, we were in Hobart, checking out the famous Saturday Salamanca Market. The weather was terrible:

I mean, it was really bad. Spritzing rain, 48 degrees, and we were starving. Luckily, the Market is kind of a catch-all for everything. Mash up a farmer’s market, a craft fair, and a food truck gathering, and that’s what you’ve got. It all happens down on the waterfront in Hobart, and after we’d had a kebab and gotten our wits about us, we were very happy to explore.

And a fun exploration it was! Lots of wonderful looking vegetables:

And countless food stalls (we didn’t try this one):

We met an author who was signing her books, and saw many teenage busker kids playing the guitar. We bought cheese, wine, pasta, and other vegetables. The rain continued, the wind picked up, and it was coming up on two o’clock.

“Hey,” we said to each other. “Instead of trying to do anything, why don’t we go back to our Airbnb, hang out, read books, and make dinner?

Best idea ever.

Our little AirBnb (you can read about it here), had a wonderful little kitchen:

And a little coffee table, upon which we made a snack:

And an old fireplace that had been converted to an electric heater. The rain continued outside, but inside we were cozy, full of great food, and happy as a harvested shellfish. Tasmania was looking good so far!